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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777341">Soot and Ash</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mental_Kitten/pseuds/Mental_Kitten'>Mental_Kitten</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Problem Child series [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Addiction, Drug Addiction, Underage Drug Use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:48:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mental_Kitten/pseuds/Mental_Kitten</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you can't sleep</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Problem Child series [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>260</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Soot and Ash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>not me writing garbage bc im having a psycotic break, noo</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was one of those days. He could tell from the moment he woke up at 2-fucking-am. He could tell by how his heart raced as he tried to get himself to go back to sleep, only for his voice to hum with noises he tried to ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave up trying to sleep around 3am, opting to find something to busy himself with. Phil was hard to wake up so early because of his schedule, so he was sure that he had plenty of time to light a bowl and scrub the evidence off of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It helped with the buzzing in his mind more than alcohol ever did. As much as Minx swore by hard liquor, it only ever helped to dull his judgement. It never slowed his mind like he needed it to. The pot always did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> addicted. It took more and more to calm himself. Schlatt told him what to watch for. He tried to ignore it, but he needed it. It wasn’t completely his fault. It was the only thing he could do for himself. By himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His expression soured as he dug out his stash, unlocking the shit little fire safe and rummaging around. The stench of mothballs hit him first as he examined the pipe he *might’ve* stolen. He always shook too much to roll joints. You couldn’t exactly smoke something with a split paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mothballs always made everything taste off. But they were the only reason his bloodhound of a fucking brother hadn’t found his shit yet. He knew because Techno had </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He knew his brother was concerned. But he didn’t pry into </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> shit coping habits. Hurting himself wasn’t any better just because he healed before Phil saw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled on a sweatshirt he had 100% stolen from- He sucked in a breath and ignored the train of thought. He didn’t like it, even if it made him feel whole in a way he craved. It was some sick sort of validation that he couldn’t get anywhere else. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least getting himself addicted to drugs would make him less of a disappointment. What kind of sixteen year old had as high of a body count as he did? Why wasn’t anyone else as </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusted</span>
  </em>
  <span> with him as he was. He needed to stop charming his way into seeming likeable. Because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tossed on a pair of heavy socks and crept out of his room, making sure to keep his steps slow. He made his way down the steps in a similar manner, careful to keep himself undetected. He didn’t need to deal with either of them. Especially not Phil. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The poor guy already made the mistake of taking him in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Opening the door hit him with a cold wave of the night air that helped to clear the stench of chemicals from his senses. It was almost peaceful, the only noise breaking the serenity being whatever hell fiend screeched in the trees further into the woods. Phil said that they were owls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t care if they were owls. They reminded him of the sleepless nights spent staring at the rough barnwood ceiling, blocking him from the stars. He was sure that it was the reason he was so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>pale</span>
  </em>
  <span> still. He hated how sick he looked. He could easily pass as an anorexic that had already passed away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which wasn’t… untrue. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>eat on purpose. Whenever he went for days on end on whatever breakfast Phil forced into him, it was because he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wasn’t sure why his friends thought smoking would help with his appetite. It didn’t. He could barely taste whatever was in his mouth even </span>
  <em>
    <span>without </span>
  </em>
  <span>the smoke hanging on his breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil had taken him to the doctor for it. It turned out that his taste buds were fucked up. There wasn’t much they could do for it, so he was just told to take a handful of supplements for whatever he didn’t manage to choke down. He usually didn’t. It seemed to make his dad think he was actually eating, which he wasn’t ready to shatter for the man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flicked the shit, 50¢ lighter and held it against the slim glass. He was amazed that he hadn’t managed to shatter it yet. It was so delicate, and he was so careless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, and let his mind start to still. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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